


Invocation To Misery

by cartouche



Category: Watchmen (2009), Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drabble, Introspection, M/M, Mild Smut, erectile disfunction, in a poetic way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9551633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartouche/pseuds/cartouche
Summary: No matter how hard Dan tries, it isn't 15 years ago. Somewhere along the way, they both got lost.-Misery! we have known each other,Like a sister and a brother





	

**Author's Note:**

> I want to be Percy Shelley.

Everybody worships Adrian Veidt. They’re right, of course, he’s as close to a deity as humanity can get; rich, athletic, world’s smartest man by all accounts. He gets a perverse kind of pleasure seeing all the people Adrian gracefully brushes aside; socialites and CEOs and politicians. Nobody gets close to the carved marble, the high walls, the locked rooms, the labyrinth of Adrian.

Nobody but Dan.

He peels out of his clothes like a snake shedding skin, layer by layer of silk and cotton and cashmere. Every time is just as impressive as the last, watching his defenses break, watching him become human. Dan knows every chink in his armor. Moonlight billows out over his skin, and even now he’s ethereal, untouchable, pale skin carved out of something ancient and angry. Quite frankly, Adrian is beautiful. Nobody but Dan gets to see this.

He watches him gaze out over the city briefly, stars drowned out by the glow of the city, bright and reflective. Clouds flutter across the sky, brushing over the moon in caressing wisps.

He shifts, nervous almost for intruding into this, but it’s Adrian’s choice, it always is, and the rustle of the sheets seem to pull him out of his mind, long enough for him to turn and face Dan, lips curving faintly. His eyes are still distant.

“My apologies Daniel.” He doesn’t think he’ll ever shake the feeling of trespassing. Adrian takes two long strides to stand beside the bed, and he has to resist the urge to squirm away underneath his intense gaze. He’s glad the room is dim, blood welling in his cheeks, and one hand scrabbles for purchase on the sheets, wishing he could cover himself, hide away.

Adrian’s lips are not made of marble. They’re soft and gentle and slow. His body relaxes minutely. He watches his fringe slide down over his cheekbones, and for the first time tonight, Adrian looks imperfect, human, believable. A car honks somewhere in the abyss of the city, and Dan’s hands shake as he places them on a lean body. It tenses beneath them.

The next kiss is fervent, and the next, and the next, and somewhere in the lost tract of time, Adrian has slid over him, covering him, protective in a feral kind of way. His hands are everywhere, long fingers tracing and tugging and scratching. If he closes his eyes hard enough he can almost believe it’s 15 years ago, and the sheets are the harsh metal of Archie’s walls and their skin is kevlar and there is nothing to worry about. He grips tighter, clinging to the dream, and hears Adrian gasp. Masochist, he always has been. His cock is pressing hard and heavy into Dan’s thigh, just as he remembers it, and his hands ache to touch, to relive those stolen moments when life still made sense.

Adrian slides sensually down him, and it’s when he realises, shame bubbling up inside him, welling up, unstoppable.

“Oh _hell_.”

And now Adrian’s noticed too. He’s limp and useless, flaccid as the day he was born. He instinctively twists away, curling up, loathing burning away at his organs. His head is throbbing. Stupid, foolish. He’s still just a lowly mortal. There are tears prickling at the corner of his eyes, and he wishes he could be swallowed up, disappear, be forgotten entirely.

“Shh, Daniel.” He can tell the voice is meant to be soothing, as hands pry gently at him, try to convince his lungs to breathe again. He’s honestly surprised not have have been rejected in disgust, but Adrian always was nice to a fault. A shuddering sob plucks at his ribcage.

Adrian Veidt could have anyone on this planet, and he’s chosen Dan.

Panic is constricting, crushing, 3 tons of concrete on his chest, and his face is still burning. Distantly there are cool hands cupping at his face, and a flutter of lips at his cheek.

“Daniel, please.” It’s more forceful this time, persistent, and he hates breathing, but his lungs are going to burst. Slowly he’s coaxed into uncurling, tucked instead against the long planes of Adrian’s body. He keeps his eyes screwed shut.

“Oh God, Adrian, I’m … I’m s-so sorry. Maybe if you just, just give me a few minutes, and uh … Maybe then …” He’s stuttering, and for a minute he remembers the disappointed look on his father face during his 5th grade spelling bee. He should have become a banker.

“I promise, you have nothing to be ashamed of.” As if to prove his words, his lips return, as gentle as before, anchoring him, ghosting lightly over his face. There are quick kisses to his eyelids. He feels them twitch. “Open your eyes, Daniel.”

Prying them apart, the world is dark and blurry, and he wants to reach for his glasses, hide behind thick lenses, shy away. Adrian’s hair tickles at his neck and there are kisses at his shoulder. Time aches forward. All he can hear is his heart thudding too loud in his chest.

“You do not ever have to give me anything Daniel. You being here is more than I deserve.” His words are quiet, and he doesn’t understand, but the earnest is evident in the velvet accent dripping over the words. His accent always slips like this, in the unguarded moments, the rare emotions that seep over his walls.

“Look, Adrian, I can’t … I’m not who you … I’m a mess.” He wishes he wouldn’t stutter. “I should probably just go.”

Arms twine around him with surprising strength, holding him from running, escaping, avoiding. From being a coward. Warm breath is exhaled against his ear, making him shiver. From here the city lights blur into a golden shine, stretching away towards the horizon.

“We are all flawed. There is no such thing as perfection.” The pause stretches out into the quiet of the room, into every shadowed corner. Dan can hear Adrian think, retreat into his mind, grow distant.

His watch is ticking next to the bed, and his heart matches its beat.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still not entirely 100% sure where this was going, whats the point or where it fits in, all I know is I love the scene in the movie where Dan can't get it up. This was supposed to be vaguely humourous but being a tragic romantic poet, I guess it ended up pretty sad. Hey ho. 
> 
> -
> 
> Come, be happy!—sit near me,  
> Shadow-vested Misery:  
> Coy, unwilling, silent bride,  
> Mourning in thy robe of pride,  
> Desolation—deified!


End file.
